We're all that's left (and we're going home)
by Dal Niente
Summary: Minion is home, no matter where they are. Gravity is unreliable, stars die, planets crumble; the only sure thing is that Minion means home and that's really the only thing that matters in this life. One-shot. Not a happy fic. Rated T for mature themes.


Me again! It's not Cold Fusion, I'm sorry. Next time for sure!

This fic is based on an incredibly angsty tumblr chain (the meat of which can be seen at dead-eyedplasticdesktoy . tumblr post / 129957790867 / writing-prompt), and all credit goes to tumblr users archive-of-evil, joanhello2, and dead-eyedplasticdesktoy, because they are angst geniuses. I took a couple liberties with the flow of the story, but generally tried to stick to the ideas posted by these three folks.

Concrit is welcome, as always. It's been a while since I posted anything that I wrote this quickly (48 hours for this one) and I sort of feel like this isn't up to my usual standard for a bunch of reasons (writer's block, and these are some heavy topics and I'm not sure I handled all of them as well as I could), but the better I get at speed-writing, the faster I'll get at writing in general. At least, I hope that's how it works! :)

I don't own anything; please keep your lawyers to yourself.

* * *

 **We're all that's left (and we're going home)**

The exhibit starts as a fairly simple idea, just to put together something on rogue black holes, a sort of "shock and awe" exhibit to educate mainly school children about an under-publicized interstellar danger.

What it turns into, thanks to a suggestion at some board meeting or other, is a massive undertaking, a memorial to another solar system, one that was actually _destroyed_ by one of the black holes zipping around the galaxy—the only black hole that spared anyone, as far as Earth knows, though not for lack of trying.

It's well-known at this point that Metro Man is not particularly super by the standards of his own people. It's also well-known that Metro Man's own people are otherwise extinct and the citizens of Earth have adopted him instead. He's super enough by _their_ standards, and they'd like to give back what they can. As public as he is, and with as much contact as he has with the public he protects, many of the individuals of Metro City feel for him on an individual level. He's very personable, after all, so it's not surprising that Metro Man is the main source of information for the project.

It starts when one of the curators calls him, nervously stumbling over the words. They call him out of the blue to ask about his solar system, maybe other planets, mostly his own planet? Hello, we're thinking of an exhibit, more of a tribute or memorial actually, well here's what we'd _like_ to do, but we'll need your help because all we've got to go on is information from NASA (but they don't have much) and what you've said in interviews (but it's a topic you tend to avoid).

Metro Man is so touched it takes him a few seconds to find his voice. He manages to answer the question and agrees that he'll help however he can.

What nobody realizes is that the first thing Metro Man does after hanging up is to call Minion. And nobody knows that Minion is Metro Man's main source of information as the project gets underway, but that's the way it is—Metro Man doesn't quite recall all the details but _Minion_ does, Minion remembers _everything_ , and Metro Man knows it. When someone comes to him with a question and Metro Man replies, "I'll think about it, see what I remember, and get back to you," what he's _really_ saying is, "I'm not sure, lemme go check with Minion."

(He's not fool enough to approach Megamind, but he knows he can trust Minion to be a grown-up about it.)

So he tells the coordinators and curators everything he knows about his own world, as well as everything Minion can remember, but he also tells them there was another in the system that supported sentient life and he gives them everything on that, too, as much as he can, as much as Minion can.

He only shrugs when he's asked if any of the other peoples survived. He gives them everything else he has, even offers them the data library from his pod, but he refuses to say anything about how the travel was achieved or whether there are any other survivors. Megamind is very private about his heritage, he's never mentioned that he and Metro Man are from the same star system, and Minion makes the decision not to say anything about it. Metro Man respects that.

The end result is, fittingly, nothing short of heroic. Scale models, several planetarium re-imaginings of the night sky as seen from his home world and Minion's, small exhibits on climate and atmosphere and the topography of both planets, and still smaller exhibits on culture and language. There's even an Imax documentary, complete with digital renderings and interview sound bits from some of the top minds in astrophysics and astroarchaeology, to top everything off.

Opening day is interesting. Some people are invited to the documentary-slash-memorial dedication, but the rest of the exhibits are open to the public. Metro Man knows Minion will be there at some point, and even though Minion hasn't said anything about Megamind, Metro Man is no fool.

He's good at reading the crowd, so he knows when Megamind shows up. Even without his super-hearing, word spreads fast and people get tense. They start looking around; the noise level drops. Nobody's sure what the supervillain is doing there, nobody's sure why he's in black, and all he's doing is walking around and looking at everything in total silence. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone. He doesn't speak to anyone. And it takes nearly five whole minutes for one of the senior security guards to work up the nerve to go over to him and say, "Uh. Y-you can't be here, this is..."

He trails off at the look Megamind sends him. It's totally blank. Fifteen years of experience up against zero emotion and a thousand-yard stare, and the stare wins. Megamind might not be able to handle crowds, but he's _good_ at what he does know how to do. The guard falters.

That's when Metro Man gets there, clad in a version of his costume done entirely in charcoal and other gray tones. "No, no, it's okay, he's cool. Don't worry about it." He's unsurprised to see that Megamind, although totally uninvited, is also wearing a darker costume than usual. His lightning bolt is as black as the rest of him but outlined in silver, and his cape is clipped to his shoulders with metal clasps rather than attaching to his mantle the way it usually does. The mantle itself is missing, as is the high collar, and Megamind looks unusually bare without them.

It's clear he doesn't plan to fight today, but the guard still looks up at Metro Man, dubious. "Your guest, sir?"

"Hah, yeah, sure. Excuse us," Metro Man adds, because Megamind's non-expression has just turned thunderous, and he hurries both villain and sidekick out of the way and into a mostly-empty hallway.

" _Guest?_ " Megamind hisses as they move. "I am not your _guest_."

"Okay, _you_ know you both belong here and _I_ know you both belong here, but _they don't_ ," Metro Man says in a low voice. Megamind glares at him, and Metro Man sighs. "Look, truce, okay? Seriously, dude, not today. And Minion, thanks for all your help with this," he adds, because if there's ever going to be a time to throw Minion under the bus, this is it.

"My pleasure," Minion replies dryly.

Megamind glances up at his friend, briefly surprised, but then he rolls his eyes. "Ah. I wondered how they managed to get the details correct."

"Yeah, about that," Metro Man says, still under his breath, because passers-by are sending curious glances at the three of them, "I didn't tell anyone the second planet was yours. You're...pretty hush-hush about that, so...anyway, I hope that was okay."

Megamind has his arms folded over his chest and his chin lowered, defensive. He's still glaring, but now it's more of his default glare instead of one of his particularly pissed-off ones, and Metro Man thinks he might actually be startled when he says, "They've got...our planet, too? Minion's and mine?"

Metro Man shrugs, trying to play it cool. "C'mon, of course they do. They wanted all this to be accurate. So did I."

"Where?"

"Most of your stuff's in planetarium three. I can take you—"

Megamind cuts him off. "We'll find our own way. I'm sure Minion knows where everything is," and he spins on his heel and stalks off down the hall. Minion, who Metro Man abruptly notices is wearing a black armband, sends Metro Man a grimace that's _almost_ apologetic, and follows.

"Are you okay, Sir?" Minion asks.

Megamind nods shortly. "I'm fine, Minion. Thank you."

"Sir, I just want you to know, I didn't mean to go behind your back. I...wasn't sure how you'd take the information."

Megamind sighs and shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. It's...kind of a nice surprise. In a weird, sort of disturbing way." He glances sideways, then pauses. "In here?"

"I think so, Sir."

There are about as many people in this room as there had been in the Glaupunkt exhibit, but the chatter is still hushed. The room is darkened, the ceiling picked with stars, and a recorded voice is saying something about how to _notice the different angle of the constellations, the rotational distortion due to natural electromagnetic interference of a binary star system is reversed on this blue world, the surface of which was composed mainly of oceans that were very like our own—although the upper atmosphere was vastly different, and supported a sea of life of its own. Here was a world of layers._

Various stations stand against the walls, smaller exhibits with slightly brighter lighting. A planetary replica hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

Megamind wanders, mourning and fascinated. They've done a good job with this, he has to admit. They even have a few pages of writing—he's not sure where Minion dug those up—but there's something missing, just a little bit. He looks around, ignoring the stares and the whispers, and notices a well-dressed older woman standing by the door. She doesn't look like a guest, and she doesn't look like security. Megamind steels himself and approaches.

"Pardon me," he says quietly. "Are you the curator?"

She blinks at him, trying and failing to hide her surprise, unconsciously squaring her shoulders. "Ah...I'm one of them, yes. Can I help you?"

Megamind swallows and glances around, his gaze lingering on the hanging planet, the table with its samples under glass. Now or never. He might as well put it out there; it's not as though a few people in various forums haven't already guessed the truth. "I would...be happy to record a language sample," he says, still in the same low tone, but his voice is unsteady. "For this. I can provide...certain other items. Artifacts. Not much." He looks at Minion again, who has come up silently behind him. "We—Minion and I—couldn't bring much with us. When we came." He clenches his jaw, lifts his chin a little, finally looks back at the curator, whose name tag says _Lucy_ , and is surprised to find that her whole face is wide open in shock.

She's staring at him, which Megamind is used to, but this is different, this isn't the usual horror. "My God," Lucy whispers. "You?"

 _Yes, me_. Megamind's first instinct is to snarl at being questioned, but...he suspects that's not what Lucy intends. He tries for a wan smile instead. "We don't talk about it."

Wide-eyed, Lucy shakes her head. "I...I can't believe...how did I _miss_ that?" She frowns, reaches up to adjust her gray hair. "Metro Man didn't say _anything_ about..."

"You wouldn't have known, Ma'am," Minion says, before Megamind can say anything about what he thinks of Metro Man speaking for both of them. "He didn't tell you because we haven't told anyone, and I told him not to—Sir is very private and I wasn't sure how he would want to handle this."

Lucy stares up at him, still looking totally flabbergasted. "You, too? You're...you're from the blue world, as well?"

Minion shrugs. "My people have always existed in mutually beneficial relationships with his."

She turns back at Megamind, who has focused back up at the replica of his home planet, completely oblivious to the fact that there's now a small crowd clustered a little way away. "And you...you'd be willing to contribute?" Lucy queries, sounding terribly dubious.

"Hm?" Megamind turns his head without moving the rest of his body, then blinks and seems to come back to himself somewhat. "Oh. Yes. Yes, I think it's important that we share what we can."

"R-really?" It doesn't seem like his usual attitude.

Megamind's eyebrows drop into a scowl. "I'll thank you not to second-guess me," he says flatly, and Lucy stammers an apology.

"Sir," Minion says quietly.

"I'm just _saying_ ," Megamind grouses, turning away again, but the next voice makes him go stiff—Metro Man is back, he's just poked his head into the planetarium.

"Hey, little buddy, you're gonna want to see this part," he says. "C'mon," and disappears again.

Megamind sighs and shakes himself. He doesn't really want to leave, but the recorded voice has switched to a speech about rogue black holes, and yes, he could do without hearing about this. _At the center of a large black hole is a singularity_... "All right," he mutters. "Minion, let's go."

As he passes, Lucy touches his arm with a crabbed hand, stopping him. "Wait. I...I just want to say," she stammers. "I am so sorry. F-for what happened."

The supervillain blinks at her again, and then his expression seems to soften somewhat. "Yeah," he says. "Me too. Thanks."

'This part' turns out to be a memorial in bronze that will eventually stand in the lobby, but it's being unveiled in one of the planetarium's Imax theaters where a documentary that seems to be mostly CGI reproductions starts playing to the crowd as the final few attendees file in. Megamind winds up standing at the foot of the memorial down front even though he offers no explanation as to why he's present at all—word hasn't gotten around yet, he supposes, so for now there are advantages to following Metro Man in.

Most of the video is interesting, if difficult to watch. Megamind was previously unaware of most of the facts about his rival's planet and culture. Not much of it is of use to him, and only makes him jealous that _Metro Man_ was able to bring along banks of information, recordings, messages, everything. He'll never admit it, but that's just how it is.

Then it switches to the part about his own world, and that's about when Megamind has to sit down on the floor because it's getting to be too much and he _refuses_ to cry. He won't, he _won't._ Not here, not in front of everyone; he has his pride and as far as these animals are concerned that's _all_ he has, so no, thank you, he's fine. He just needs to sit down for a minute because his heart is too loud and too fast in his ears, and it's a lot to take in, seeing his world up there on the screen with its atmosphere intact again.

"Are you okay?" someone whispers to him.

He lifts his head from between his knees and looks over, already poised to hiss some scathing response, but then he sees that the person standing next to him is a girl with box braids and a blue backpack with a white-haired, smirking lady on it. The girl looks like she can't be more than seven years old. Megamind swallows his remark and nods unsteadily instead. It's not in him to scorn children.

"Are you sure?" She turns more fully towards him, and thank God, she's wearing a name tag that says her name is Shanae when the screens brighten momentarily; Megamind hates not knowing names and now he doesn't have to ask. Shanae wrinkles her nose at him. "You don't look okay."

Someone taller makes a shushing sound. Megamind puts his head back between his legs, clamps his knees to his ears, wishes he had his collar and his spikes and his _gloves_ , good lord, he wants his gloves, and no matter how hard he squeezes he can't drown out the orchestral score and the foghorn noise that seems to be the musical equivalent of the black hole's approach.

Not going to cry. Not. Won't.

"Do you wanna hold my hand?" Shanae asks.

No, of course he doesn't, he doesn't need to hold anybody's hand, _What am I, some kind of infant?_

(He sort of feels that way, right now.)

He glances up just in time to see the atmosphere scorch away, _oh, fantastic_ , and he remembers shrieking klaxons and hurrying footsteps, and he looks quickly away again, back down at the floor, and goddammit, yes, _fuck_ , he's crying.

So, sure. Maybe some human contact would be nice. And this is a child, after all, and the theater's playing some pretty heavy stuff, so maybe _she's_ sort of freaked out right now, too; maybe she's asking because _she_ needs a hand. That's an easier concept for Megamind to stomach than that _he_ needs to hold the hand of a seven-year-old girl in order to not completely lose all of his marbles right here and now. _Sure, okay._ He nods hard, reaches out, closes his fingers around a small palm and most of Shanae's wrist. She wiggles a bit, wraps her hand around his ring and pinkie finger. That works.

Megamind breathes, counting silently, trying to focus on something other than what he lost. But it's _hard_ , because he's _always_ trying not to think about that—not a day goes by he doesn't remember _something_ —sometimes when one of his explosions rocks the Lair, especially when Metro Man has landed and has Megamind in his grip so that Metro Man has his feet on the ground but Megamind doesn't, the stumbling rumble goes in a way that makes his heart stutter-skip—and sometimes when the wind is right he can't look at the sky because the wind rising off the lake before a storm feels a lot like the wind howling off the bay when the sky turned red and the clouds all boiled away. It's only gotten worse as he's gotten older. He doesn't go outside anymore when the weatherman calls for storms.

He thinks of quietly urgent voices and the rush of the ocean, remembers how he could feel the push-pull of the tides because the moons were closer back then, remembers someone (his father? His mother? He doesn't remember) swearing by all the water in them, they would get him off this planet.

And he remembers the day he felt the tides tear and break. There's not a soul on Earth who knows that feeling, or would know the depth of what that feeling _meant_ to people whose lives revolved around and depended on the ocean and its people—not just Minion-fish, there were others. Megamind _knows_ there were others; he remembers four inky eyes in a boneless, mouthless face welcoming him into the world, soft arms guiding him to the surface where gravity and air could do their work—

And he remembers the kite-people who sang their whole lives in the methane layer just below the thermosphere; they tore a gaping hole in the mesosphere when they crashed down—thousands of them dropping silent—Megamind's parents sent him and Minion through that hole and he suspects that if the kites hadn't killed their engines and dropped to where the atmospheric pressure would crush their fragile cartilage before the singularity could, Megamind would never have escaped. He's alive by the dying grace of a species he doesn't even have a name for.

And now he's huddled at the closest thing to a grave any of them will ever get, and it's not _fair_. And it's not okay, and no, _he's_ not okay, and it's almost _worse_ now that he's an adult because now he understands how astronomically huge the loss is and he _doesn't_ understand why _he_ was allowed to escape, why he survived instead of a thousand other children whose planet ripped itself out from under them.

Shanae squeezes his fingers, whispers, "Why did the dinosaur cross the road?"

Megamind shudders and tries again to focus. "I d-don't know. Why?"

"Chickens didn't exist yet. What do you call something with a spiky tail, plates on its back, and sixteen wheels?"

He turns his head, looks at her out the corner of his eye. "What?"

"A stegosaurus on roller skates." She looks worried. "You're from up there, aren't you? Like Metro Man?"

Megamind is too tired to argue with the comparison. "Yes," he says. "I'm from the other planet, though. Th-the blue world. So is Minion. Why did the archaeopterix get the worm?"

Shanae tilts her head. "Why?"

"Because it was an early bird." It's the only thing he could think of. He's not particularly up on dinosaur facts.

It takes a moment, but then Shanae grins. "What do you do if you find a blue ichthyosaur?"

Megamind blinks. "...Cheer it up?" he guesses, wondering if starting to get the hang of this. The standing person shushes them again. He ignores them. _They_ aren't doing anything to help his mental state.

"Are you feeling better?" Shanae wants to know. She still looks worried, her forehead rumpled into the absurdly serious concern of the very young.

"I think so," Megamind says, and tries again for a smile. It doesn't really work, though, and he swallows past the stone in his throat and tries to explain, "All this s-stuff about black holes. It's. Hard. Having seen one."

Shanae nods. "You know where most black holes are found?" she asks.

"...Space?"

"Black socks." She watches him carefully, uncertain if this is a good joke or if she should stick to dinosaurs. Megamind stares at her for a moment, then snorts. Shanae relaxes. Okay, that was a good joke. But the villain's face is still all blotchy. "If it's hard, why are you staying?"

He shrugs. He could say something like, _if you were the last human, the last one ever, wouldn't you stay if there was a memorial?_ but that's not something to hand a kid. That's too much, as Megamind knows firsthand, so he just shrugs. At least the documentary has moved onto some sort of montage of Metro Man growing up, which still tastes bitter enough to Megamind but at least it isn't like watching everything burn all over again. Minion may have been a little too detailed in his descriptions for whoever made this video.

The odds of a rogue black hole destroying Earth are astronomically high. Megamind knows this. But the chance is there, and that's always in the back of his mind, and now the thought pops unbidden into his head that if Earth goes, this little girl will die, and so will everyone else, but—if anyone escapes, it probably won't be Shanae. _Those_ odds are seven billion to one.

The film is ending, zooming out on the artist's rendition of Megamind's star system, restored again on the big screen. The narrator is saying something about how the statue Megamind is squeezed under will stand in the lobby to remind visitors that nothing in life is certain, and they are not alone. There was a sister star once, with life, and if there was one then there are others, and it's important to settle our own differences so that we can speak to the stars with one voice...Megamind tunes it out. No, he decides. He's not feeling much better.

The lights start to come up, and he drops Shanae's hand and puts his chin on his knees, staring straight ahead.

"I liked your joke," Shanae tells him.

"Thanks," he says absently, and dimly registers that she leaves with the rest of...what, is it a school class? Who takes their students to something like this? It's unreal.

 _If I do anything else with my life,_ Megamind thinks, exhausted and grieving all over again, _let me build something that will keep this solar system safe for the next five billion years_.

 _I should be able to do that._

So even if humanity goes extinct, at least then there will be something left for others to find if they land on Earth. They'll find some records, something, _anything_. At least then there will be an Earth to land on.

"Sir? Is...everything okay? I thought you left." Minion is crouched at Megamind's side, shielding him as best he can from the stares of the crowd.

"Do you know what the kite-people were called?" Megamind's voice sounds far away even to his own ears. Possibly because he seems to be feeling everything from a long way off. The colors are too bright. "The ones who ripped a hole in the sky before it burned."

Minion studies him for a moment, watches as Megamind frowns vaguely at his hands, flexing his fingers, before losing interest and wrapping his arms around his legs again. "I'll see if I can try to remember, but I don't think we had much contact with them. Sir, those are your hands."

"I know," Megamind says. "They're blue."

Minion groans, inwardly kicking himself. He should have paid closer attention! " _Why_ did you stay? I should have made sure you didn't see the second half of that," he frets.

 _You stayed. You're fine_ , Megamind wants to say, but the words get lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

"What's going on? Is he okay?" Metro Man drops into a crouch nearby. Megamind shuts his eyes. Everything's too still, like it's tilt-shifted and too sharp, and he's all fuzzy and pulled away. It's been a while since this has happened, and he _really_ would rather his nemesis didn't see him so out of it. He struggles to his feet, knowing they're his feet without feeling it.

"He'll be fine," Minion snaps, rising with his charge. "I don't know why you thought telling him he should see this was a good idea. He does _remember_ what happened, it's not like he needed the reminder. Sir, come on, I'm taking you home."

Metro Man drifts after them as Megamind starts for the door. "But... _you_ remember it too, and you seemed...okay enough, all through this."

Minion pauses, scowling back at the hero, but it's Megamind who replies, "Minion has inherited memories. Passed down over generations. He's always remembered the dead."

"My people don't have the same feelings about finality that he does," Minion elaborates, because Metro Man still seems confused, "so of course the experience was _traumatic_ for me, but I don't feel the loss the same way."

Metro Man recoils, looking severely taken aback. "You can't grieve?"

"I don't _think_ I said that," Minion says coldly. "Just because I don't feel something the way Sir does, or you do, doesn't mean I don't feel at all."

"Right, right. Sorry." Metro Man leans sideways, frowning at Megamind. "Little buddy, you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Megamind replies, arching an eyebrow. "This is an amazing memorial. Thank you for all your hard work, now leave me alone."

Metro Man hesitates, then shrugs. "Okay, I guess. See you around," he says, and flits around them and out the door.

Minion relaxes slightly, the shoulders of his gorilla exosuit dropping a little. "Finally," the little fish mutters. "Come on, Sir. Let's go."

"I need to eat something," Megamind says quietly, halfway through the lobby. "Do you have raisins?"

"I stopped carrying those a while ago, Sir. When we get home—"

"I hate feeling like this, Minion," Megamind says, more sharply than he's sounded for a few minutes. "I _hate_ it."

"I have raisins!"

Minion looks around, startled, sees a little black girl with flashing shoes running towards them, followed by...a teacher? A parent? He's not sure. Either way, the girl shrugs her backpack around in front of her and pulls out a battered lunch box with pictures of robots fighting on the lid. "Here," she says breathlessly, pulling out a small reddish carton and handing it to Megamind. "Raisins. You can keep them, I hate 'em."

"Shanae!" The adult comes rushing up behind her, grabs the little girl by the hand. Generally, when adults come into close proximity of Minion, they tend to do one of three things—stare at him, act like they're not staring at him, or do their best to pretend he doesn't exist. This one seems to fall into the third group. "Don't go running off like that. Come on, we're leaving."

"Bye," Shanae calls over her shoulder.

"Thank you," Minion calls back, bewildered. He looks at Megamind. "Did you make a friend?"

"She knows a lot of dinosaur jokes," Megamind says, then turns around and heads back into the planetarium, shaking raisins into a hand. Something about chewy foods is grounding, and all he really wants right now is for everything to stop being so far away. He wants to be back in the room with his planet in it. He wants his extremities to stop feeling like they aren't attached to his body. He wants to go home.

Here. Planetarium three is blessedly dark and playing a different recording than last time. He ducks under the protective velveteen cordon circling the space under the replica of his homeworld, looking up at his shadowy planet, looking back at Minion, looking down at his feet, and—thank god—they're _his_ feet, not just feet that are attached somehow. He wants—

He's not sure anymore what he wants. It probably doesn't matter; he'll never get it, whatever it is.

The rest of today is going to suck, he knows. It always does when he pulls out of himself like that. He's too rattled, too emotionally strung-out to focus on any of his usual projects, so all he has is his tangle of angry-sadness and his exhaustion.

"Sir," Minion says softly. "Come on. Let's go home."

The downside to feeling fully connected again is that it usually ends with Megamind wanting to cry for several hours and then sleep for a year, but he's in public right now, and screw _that._ Yeah, home sounds good. He give a jerky nod, climbs back over the cordon. Mutters something to Lucy about being in touch. Follows Minion out to the car, ignoring the curious stares and wishing again for a collar. He looks good in this outfit, he knows, but it gets uncomfortable sometimes.

Minion puts the car in gear and gets them out of the parking garage before he finally sighs and says, "Well, Sir, I'm sorry. I don't know what I expected, but...that wasn't it. I shouldn't have told you to come today."

Megamind shakes his head. "I'm glad you did. I'm glad _someone's_ going to remember them. When we're gone."

"Not for a while yet, right, Sir?" Minion says, sounding falsely cheerful. "Got a good few decades left in us, huh? We're young yet. We'll remember for a while."

"I certainly hope so."

Silence falls again, and Megamind rests his forehead on the car window and closes his eyes. Eventually Minion clears his throat. "Sir. I...I'm sorry. I didn't know what it would be like for you, seeing home again that way."

Megamind stirs, looks over at him. "Home?" he repeats.

"I didn't know it would do that to you," Minion says, brow furrowed as he changes lanes. "I'm so sorry, Sir. I should never have gotten involved."

Megamind frowns and presses his lips together, shuts his eyes again. He's dizzy. He doesn't feel well. He just wants to sleep, and he's not sure what Minion means by home.

"And I didn't have any raisins for you," Minion adds a little while later.

Megamind sighs. "I haven't needed raisins in years."

"But I should have _thought_ of it," Minion says, sounding wretched. "I should have...stopped you from watching the documentary. I should have noticed when you sat down! I should have remembered your spare gloves were in the other car, I..."

"You can't do everything," Megamind says. He's starting to get irritated. What is Minion's problem?

"But you _needed_ me and I didn't even _realize._ "

"I'm an adult, Minion," Megamind reminds his friend. "I can take care of myself."

"But I helped them throw everything back in your face like that!" Minion exclaims. "I still _have_ everything we lost—well, sort of—but you lost home _completely_ , and I _threw_ it at you, and..."

Oh. _That's_ what the problem is?

 _What in the hell?_

Megamind sits bolt upright. " _You're_ home. Minion. Stop."

"No I'm not, we're still like five minutes away."

"Not _that_ , imbecile," Megamind snaps, his head spinning. "That's just the Lair." He can't deal with this, not with himself _and_ Minion—Minion, who's better at handling things usually, is just as pigheaded as Megamind when he's in a mood, so Megamind needs to nip that in the bud because he _can't_ do this now but he _also_ needs to tell Minion something he could have sworn the little fish already knew, and he doesn't know how, and he's starting to panic, but Minion _needs to know_. "That's just the Lair," he says again, "it's not _home._ _You're_ home, okay? So just stop. I lost a planet. I lost a family. I didn't lose my home."

Minion's lip wobbles. "But Sir, you—"

"Minion! Enough!" Megamind snaps. He hunches in his seat, scrubs a shaking hand over his scalp. "I can't _believe_ you don't know this. S-seriously? _All_ those times...you wake me up when I'm scared and you make sure I'm okay when I'm sick and you make sure I eat, and you run all these ridiculous crazy errands for me and you've _always_ been with me and if I lost you I would _die_ , okay, because _you're my home_ and _I need you_ ," he hauls in a ragged breath, totally unaware that Minion is staring at him with his mouth hanging open. "I need you like I need to _breathe_ , you're the _one thing_ that never—I mean, planets, stars, even _gravity_ , but y- _you stayed_ and you're _everything_ , okay, _everything_ , and I can't—you _can't_ blame yourself for—" His voice breaks and he shakes his head hard, trying unsuccessfully to clear it. He's too tired. He's too _tired._

" _Sir_ ," Minion protests, floored and wishing desperately that he could just pull over and give his friend and only family a hug. "Sir. Okay. It's okay."

"N- _no it's not!_ " Megamind rounds on him, tears streaming down his face. "And _now_ you've even muh-managed to give me a memorial, some kind of actual physical _tribute_ , a reconstruction of what we lost that day and _you guh-gave me that_ and you're sitting there buh- _blaming_ yourself and beating yourself up because," he swallows, chokes, " _I got ove-overwhelmed?_ Minion? For the luh-love of the higgs-boson, you already _are_ everything to m-me, so _st-stop thinking you have to_ do _everything,_ too." He scrubs the back of his arm furiously across his eyes, leaving a damp trail. "And! You!" he gasps, starting to hiccup, "You didn't _know!_ _Any of th-this!_ And y-you should have! Because! Because _I should've told you._ And I didn't! And I'm _sorry!_ "

"It's okay, Sir," Minion says, quietly. The Lair is in sight. "It really is."

"Let—let me finish," Megamind manages, his fists balled on the seat on either side of his hips. "You. Are. The best thing. _Only_ thing. In my life worth _anything._ And. The thing today. Was too much. But it w-wasn't the end of the world. I'm n-not upset about that! I d-dealt with that once, I can do it-t again." He swallows again. "I'm. Upset. Because your whole _life_ has been about _me._ And th-that's not fair. So..."

"Wait," Minion tells him, alarmed, as he pulls the car in through the usual door. "No. Don't."

"Min-Minion. If you ever? Want to go? You _can._ Y-you don't _have_ to stay. And you _know_ that but you're _still_ —"

"Oh for _pete's sake!_ " Minion throws the car into park and storms out, slams the door after him, stomps around the front of the car and wrenches Megamind's door clean off its hinges. He stops for a second, blinking at it. "Whoops," he mutters, then tosses it over his shoulder. Not his problem, not right now. Right now, Megamind is his problem, and no matter what Megamind says he is _very much Minion's problem_ , thank you, and also how dare he? How _dare_ he?

Minion reaches into the car and hauls his trembling charge out with both hands. "Sir. I am not going _anywhere_ ," he says, as flatly as he can and trying not to scream it at the idiot. "I _love_ you. If I didn't, I wouldn't _be here_." He shakes his head. "I don't...you're not _keeping_ me here, I don't stay because I think I _have to_ , Sir, I stay because you're my _family_ and you're my _best friend_ and we're a team, so don't _ever_ think I'm just here because I have to be." _And right now, I really wish I had arms, real arms, because I need to hug something_ , he adds silently. He does his best with his mechanical arms, which are as much a part of him as anything can be. Megamind's thrown both arms around Minion's bowl, and now he's just hanging on to Minion and shaking. Minion squeezes him. "Sir, come on. We got thrown into this together, Sir, but I love you and I'm not going anywhere."

"I _know_ that, fool," Megamind gasps into the fur of Minion's shoulder. He's still shaking, but he seems to be calming down somewhat. "Th-that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying you could've left but you _didn't_ , you're st-still _here_ with me because I'm important to you and _I've never told you_ how much you mean to me."

"Oh." Minion pauses. That makes more sense.

"And I'm _sorry._ "

"Sir, it's really okay, really."

"Please stop worrying about me so much," Megamind says, pulling back enough that he can actually look at his friend. "I take up s-so much of your time, you deserve better. More."

Minion squeezes harder. "No." He does his best to laugh a little. "Sir...I know you're down right now, but you're too hard on yourself! You're amazing, I'm so proud of you."

"But we're going extinct," Megamind whispers. "There aren't any others after us. We're it. And I'm not...it shouldn't have been me."

"It should absolutely have been you!" Minion exclaims. "There's no one better. You don't take up too much of my time. You're...you're _my_ home, Sir. We've got each other, right? So we'll be okay."

Megamind rests his forehead against Minion's dome. "We'll be okay," he agrees dully.

"Why don't you go have a nap," Minion suggests, after a moment. "That usually makes you feel better. I'll wake you up for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay," Megamind murmurs, and drops to the floor, heads for his bedroom without looking back. Minion watches him go, biting his lip, hoping Megamind's mood passes sooner rather than later.

It has to pass at some point. They don't have much of a choice in the matter.


End file.
